Second to Godliness
by Stained Blue
Summary: Companion piece to "Cleanliness"


Title: …Second to Godliness  
Pairing: Monk/Stottlemeyer  
Note: Still don't own, and it's not likely to change. Told from Monk's POV; companion piece to "Cleanliness…"

We're in Napa Valley, in some hotel. I've already cleaned our room about five times. Five is a good number. Natalie and Lieutenant Disher both have their own rooms. I'm currently sharing a room with the Captain. Everyone seemed to come to the decision that I shouldn't be rooming alone, like some small child afraid of the dark. Alright, so the dark does terrify me, but I could always sleep with the lights on.

If Randy and or Natalie noticed the Captain's willingness to room with me, neither of them mentioned it. Honestly, it surprised me that Leland would even want to be in the same room as me. Ever since that day in the shower a few weeks ago, things really haven't been the same. I can't tell Dr. Kroger, and I definitely can't tell Natalie, but I can't stop thinking about it. That night, I dreamed of Trudy and she told me that loving Leland didn't mean I loved her any less. She's right, of course. She always was.

I shift on the uncomfortably hard chair, really unwilling to sit on the bed. I eye it warily. It doesn't matter that I've already washed the sheets twice; I'm still having doubts on its cleanliness. The television is on, but Leland's forbidden me from watching any documentaries or news stories. I suspect he's afraid that I'll go off on another cleaning spree…which seems likely.

Lifting a hand, I rub my temple with the side of my index finger. We got called out on a very mysterious death: a man was found in a wine vat without really any cause of death. And of course, being San Francisco's prize genius detective, the Captain got called to fetch me. The Mayor stepped in and told us to go, so here we are.

The door opens softly, and I glance over at Leland. He comes in, arms full of food, and puts it all on the table in front of me. He gives me a brief, preoccupied smile, and I'm once again reminded there is only one bed in the room. "So…it smells like a hospital in here Adrian." I duck my head in embarrassment while pawing through the bag of Chinese take-out. A few brief flashes of memories while I was on the force assault my mind; we used to get Chinese take-out all the time when we worked late together.

There must be a little smile on my face, because suddenly Leland is talking in that deep, mellow voice. "You know, Chinese take-out is my favorite. It always reminds me of you." I glance up at him, and he smiles, that full mouth curving under his mustache. I feel the phantom touch of those lips against mine.

I open my box, surprised to find my favorite…surprised he even cared to remember. His chair squeaks as he pulls it out from under the table and closer to mine; my breath hitches as he down so close to me. I can smell the spiced scent of his soap. He hands me a fork wrapped in plastic, before fishing out a pair of chopsticks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him eat. Once again, it's causing anxiety to curl fitfully in my stomach when I think about that morning in the shower. We haven't really talked about it, but I can't really stop thinking about it. At night, the dreams of Leland have encroached on my dreams of Trudy. Leland stops, his lo mein poised halfway to his open mouth, and turns to look at me. "Why aren't you eating? I got your favorite, white rice and chicken curry." His eyebrows come together in confusion, but I give him a quick smile. "Just thinking."

He raises an eyebrow in question, but doesn't say anything, instead just lets his lo mein resume its path into his mouth. I pick at the chicken and rice, eating a little bit, and even though I'm hungry, the anxiety eliminates most thoughts of food. Soon though, the sound of chopsticks scraping against the Styrofoam container reaches my ears, and Leland stands, pushing the chair back as he goes. His broad hand rests on my shoulder lightly, and I can feel the heat through my shirt.

I don't turn to watch him, but I can hear it as he sits down heavily on the bed and begins to pull of his shoes and socks. "I think I'm gonna shower, alright?" I nod slowly and make a soft, non-committal noise. Once again, the anxiety is curling in my stomach. I feel Leland's fingers brush my shoulder as he walks past me and to the bathroom. I listen to the bathroom door close quietly.

Slowly, I back out from under the table and bend to untie my shoes. When I untie them, I slip them off and then pull my socks off, tucking them inside my shoes. I stand up and take a deep breath before untucking my shirt. I undo the buttons, starting from the bottom and moving my way up slowly. I breathe slowly to try and calm the anxiety. I can't let this thing, whatever it is, with Leland go. I can't deal with the idea of losing yet another person I love, even if it's different than a death.

Slipping the shirt off my shoulders, I carefully fold it, lining up all the creases, and place it in the chair I was occupying. I pull off my undershirt as well, fold it, and place it with my shirt. The cool air-conditioned air touches my skin, and I almost lose my nerve. My fingers tremble as I touch my belt buckle. I listen to the shower start up. Closing my eyes, I slide the leather back through the buckle, undoing it before threading it back through the loops. I roll the belt up and place it on the table.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly undo my pants and push them down my legs. I step out of them and fold them, pressing creases together, and place the slacks under my shirts. I smirk just barely. I'm nearly naked, in a place that's not my apartment or the bathroom. Dr. Kroger would be proud, I think. My fingers gently touch the perfectly elastic waistband of my boxers, taking a deep breath, and then the plunge, I shove my boxers down my legs and quickly step out of them.

Already, the anxiety of being naked is crawling about inside my stomach, mixing with the anxiety of what I'm about to do. Focusing on my breathing, I fold my boxers and tuck them under my undershirt on the chair. The carpet is plush under my bare feet as I move forward, feeling the cool air trickle over me. I touch the bathroom door's knob, turn it slowly and step inside, pressing the door shut behind me.

The air is muggy, and it leaves a sticky, moist touch against my skin. Slowly, I step forward on the chilly linoleum. I can see Leland's silhouette on the shower curtain near the back of the shower, so I step up by the faucet. I grasp the dark green fabric and pull it back just enough for me to step into the hot shower stall. The water is hot as it bears down against my skin, shocking me but I try not to make a sound.

Somehow, Leland still knows I'm here though. He turns around, wiping the water from his face and peering at me curiously. Without really wanting to, I can see his body twitch in interest. Gulping in a deep breath, I force my legs to move closer to him while I keep my gaze locked on his blue-green eyes. The corners of his generous mouth twitch, "Adrian…what're you doing."

The anxiety is choking me, but other feelings are pressing inside of my chest as well. I need him, I realize. In every sense of the term.

I watch my hand rise shakily, extend toward him but falling short. Within seconds his arms are coming around me, and I choke back a sob. I feel the relief wash over me; for the past few weeks, I'd worried that somehow I'd managed to lose Leland too. I can feel his broad hand gliding up and down my back, and I bury my face against his neck, clinging to his strong body. "I missed you," I whisper softly against his skin, moving closer until there's no air left between our bodies, and I can feel all of him. I feel his soft chuckle, "I missed you too Adrian."

He tilts back, forcing me to look up, and then his mouth is pressing carefully against mine as though he's worried I'll break. A foreign feeling burns through me, but I recognize it as lust. I press back against his kiss, trying to ignore the shameful burn in my cheeks as my body responds readily.

My mouth falls open at the first touch of his tongue, and I can still taste a little of the take-out. He moans into my mouth, and the sound pulls my hips tight against his. I whimper softly, unable to completely still my hips. Leland growls, pressing me hard against the slick wall of the shower, and his mouth is leaving mine, burning its way along my neck. I can't breathe. My hips arch against his while a soft moan leaves my throat raggedly, my nails grappling for purchase against his slick back.

There's that moan again, and it fills me with such heat. Leland's lips are against my ear, his mustache bristly the sensitive skin there; his voice is low and heady. "If you don't stop that, I won't be able to stop _period_." For the past few weeks, that's exactly what I've been thinking about, resulting in me waking up sticky and humiliated more than once. The blush burns harder across my cheeks as I rub against him, whimpering out a soft "please" before everything falls into sensations.

My mind is effectively silenced.

His hands are everywhere, burning soft touches along my skin, setting me on fire. My nails are scrabbling against his skin, trying to bring him closer, but he resists. When I feel his hand around me _there_ I cry out, my head falling back with a thump against the slick wall. His lips are roving along my neck, sucking and nipping, while his hand is stroking, moving.

Then he kisses me, smashing our lips together roughly, and I hear our teeth clink together softly. His tongue rubs along mine as his hands grip at my hips, smashing his hips against mine. He moves against me, and I see white spots as pleasure sparks heavy in my skull. "Are you sure," he murmurs against my mouth, and it takes me a minute to realize what he's asking. What I've offered. I blush harder but nod; my tongue feels swollen in my mouth. He groans and pulls away.

Before I can really miss his body heat, he's turning me, placing his hands over mine, spreading my legs with his. He leans fully against me, and I can feel him all over. His lips are gently roving along my neck and shoulder. The fingers of his left hand are threading between mine, covering my hand while the fingers of his right are skimming down my body. And then he's touching me _there_, in a completely different place than before, and I try so hard not to think about it. I squint my eyes shut, press my forehead against the slick wall, and try to concentrate on the way he makes me _feel_ and not what he's actually _doing_.

Within seconds it seems Leland's touching something inside of me that makes sparks of pleasure trip through my veins, and I'm moaning. I can feel his face buried against my neck, the heavy and ragged breathing fluttering against my skin. I can feel him rubbing against my skin lightly, just a gentle rocking. I can feel how hard he is, and it makes me a little proud to know I did this. "Are you okay," he grunts softly, his breath ghosting past my ear. I nod quickly, pressing my hips back against him, and he growls.

Then his hand is gone, and it leaves me feeling oddly empty. But I don't really have time to dwell on the feeling, because then he's there and pushing. I stop breathing. Leland stops breathing. And everything is so still. The sound of the water is deafeningly loud in the shower stall, and I'm trying so hard to block out the pain. I squint my eyes shut, and Leland presses tender kisses against my back.

"Adrian," he mumbles, coaxing my eyes open, "Adrian look at me, please?" I turn my head and gaze at him over my shoulder, overwhelmed by the feeling that's taking over my body from the lower half up. His eyes are worried and so full of love, so intense in their gaze as he stares at me that I feel like crying. I grip hard at his hand, and he brushes his thumb over mine. "Are you okay?" I gasp out a reply; I'm not really sure what I say, but it must be the right thing, because suddenly Leland is moving behind me.

There's a burning sensation, and it sucks my breath from my lungs, and then _oh_. And I must have said it out-loud because Leland chuckles behind me, mumbling "oh yeah" beside my ear. And then everything leaves my skull, minus the sensations burning through my body. I can feel Leland touching me down there, pulling me along with him in this raging torrent of lust and want and need.

Wave after wave of feeling is tumbling down over my ears, balling in the pit of my stomach, and I know I'm close. I buck into Leland's hand, gasping for breath and clutching hard at his hand. He's kissing my neck again, whispering against my skin "Let go Adrian, it's alright. I've got you." And I give a loud cry, clutching at him and the wall while my orgasm wrenches itself from the pit of my stomach. And then Leland is stilling behind me, panting, leaning hard against me.

That's when I hear the banging on the door, and Randy is calling for us. By my ear, Leland growls deeply, "Shit," but slowly begins to work his way away from my body. He tugs me around and kisses me languidly beneath the cooling water stream, pulling away and leaving me breathless, "You know you're beautiful, Adrian. You really are." His fingers brush against my cheekbone in a gentle caress, and it makes me nearly cry. He presses another gentle kiss to my lips before pulling away completely with a laugh. "If we start that up again, I'll keep you in here," he winks at me while getting out of the shower stall.

I can hear him rustling around in the room, presumably getting dressed before yanking open the door. "What the HELL do you want Randy?!" I can't really hear what Lieutenant Disher says, but I do hear Leland close the door and firmly lock it.

Finally, the water is too cold for my skin, and though I haven't really moved from the spot where he left me, I feel better than I have in a long time. I shut off the tap and wrap a towel around my waist before leaving the stall.

In the room, Leland is stretched out on the bed. He looks peaceful, and without really worrying about the germs, I join him. I lay down nearly touching him, but then his arms are pulling me against his body, holding me tightly. His lips brush my ear right before he whispers "You know, I used to dream about this." I blush softly, pressing back into his touch, welcoming it.

Nothing else in my world matters right now. Not germs, or diseases, or deaths, or God-forbid _milk_. This…this is all I really need now.


End file.
